The video appeared on the Facebook page of HOS, then disappeared almost the moment regional media picked it up. That's the part that says the most. Not the singing itself - somebody filmed that and posted it themselves, proudly. It's the speed with which the same hand pulled it down once it registered how the thing looked from the outside.

The footage, according to Croatian media - "Jutarnji list" among the first - shows Croatian President Zoran Milanović in a tavern in Knin together with Marko Skejo, former commander of the 9th HOS battalion. Ustaša songs were being sung, including the one about the commanders of the Black Legion. Censored versions of the video kept circulating - in those you see Skejo with his men, but not the president.

What holds up, and what doesn't

What holds up is that the video existed, that it was published publicly by the organisation itself, and that it was then withdrawn. It also holds up that the president spoke in Knin that same day, where the country's leadership was marking "Storm".

What doesn't hold up is the simpler reading offered immediately - that the man in power is part of the choir. The video shows he was in the room. That is not the same as him singing. That distinction gets erased both by people who want a scandal and by people who want this to pass unnoticed - just for opposite reasons.

And that's exactly why the reaction, or rather its absence, is the real story. When a video surfaces of a song glorifying the Black Legion, with the head of state in the room, institutions have exactly two options: say what happened, or stay quiet and wait it out. The second option always looks cheaper - until it becomes a habit.

The Balkans know this scene by heart, in every direction and in every language. There's always a tavern, always a song that makes somebody's hair stand up, always someone explaining that it's folklore and concerns nobody. And always an institution that ought to say something and says nothing - and then that same institution wonders why nobody believes it.

The question isn't whether one man in a tavern should be the state's problem. The question is whether the state will even attempt an answer when it's asked.